


i wanna take a ride on your disco stick

by trashemdudes



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Gen, especially when they're tired, includes mean jabs at each other bc that's what siblings do
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-30
Updated: 2017-05-30
Packaged: 2018-11-06 19:41:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11042985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trashemdudes/pseuds/trashemdudes
Summary: four batkids get into a batmobile together(Jason & Dick centric)





	i wanna take a ride on your disco stick

“You’re sitting in the back, Todd.” Damian stated, stomping a boot on Jason’s ass when the other man was reaching in to put away the booster seat. Jason fell forward with an oomph, cursing loudly when he tried to get up.

“You son of a bitch,” Jason muttered, crawling in anyway as he folded the booster seat up. “I go and try to be nice and put you booster seat away, but instead you put a boot print on my nicely shaped ass.”

“My booster seat?” Damian replied, “You mean Drake’s booster seat.”

“Code names. And I’m not the one five foot nothing, midget,” Tim sots back, scooting the shotgun seat forward. There wasn't a lot of room in the Batmobile, and it was literal hell having all four of them in it at once for more than one reason. They’d usually go out of their way to avoid it, but all of them were tired and hurt some way or another.

“You say that Drake, but how long has it been since you’ve grown?” Damian shot back, yanking Tim back by the yellow belts on his chest to make a move for the front seat.

“You’re not-,” Tim  ground out, straining to get a hold around Damian’s waist, "sitting there.”

“You don’t mean to say you’ll sit there, then? We wouldn’t want the police to pull us over for public indecency. Because your face is in fact indecent.”

“No, Robin,” Tim grit out, “You sit in the back because Jason’s the biggest and you’re the smallest. Equal division of-”

Jason blindly stuck his hand out and yanked the closest one in. Which happened to be Tim. Tim’s head was slammed on the side of the car, and he let out a groan, "What the fuck, Hood?”

“Just get in,” Jason sighed, “I’m tired and cranky.”

“Isn’t that the usual,” Tim muttered as he crawled into the back, folding himself up to fit.

Damian smugly settled into the shotgun seat except he passed right across it to the driver’s seat. He glanced up at the irritated, incredulous noise Tim made and cooly said, “Nightwing will be sitting shotgun while I drive.”

Dick, who had been talking with the police, up until the point, nodded and waved goodbye to Commissioner Gordon before turning to the Batmobile and opening the door to the driver’s seat to find Damian waiting there, hand held out for the keys.

“No.” Dick said, narrowing his eyes, before shooing a scowling Damian over to the shotgun seat, “Hurry it up, Robin. If we get another video posted on Instagram about us, I swear, Bruce is gonna bust a nut.”

“No one needed that image in their head, Dickie,” Jason retorted, face pressed up against the back of the driver’s seat. His helmet was in his lap.

“Code names,” Dick and Tim said in unison even as Dick slide into the seat and put the key in.

The engine started with a quiet hum and then Dick started driving, the car letting out an obnoxious roar that all of them winced at.

“Bruce is so extra. What happened to stealth,” Jason said.

“It’s for safety,” Dick replied, adjusting the rearview mirror. “And,” Dick tacks on, grinning a little when his eyes meet Tim’s through the mirror, and they say in unison, again, “codenames.”

Jason snorted, sneering at them a little. “The safety of his ego, sure.”

Damian had his feet up on the dash, arms folded on his chest as he toyed with his phone, and he glanced up to say, “Are you certain you aren’t talking about your own ego, Todd?”

“Codenames,” Dick and Tim said, more irritated this time.

“-Tt-.”

“B is probably just overcompensating for his small ass dick.” Jason raised his eyebrows, “Want me to adjust the side view mirrors, shrimpy?”

Dick glared at him through the rear view mirror.

“Jealous because I outgrew you?” Jason offered.

“You have no traits to be envious of, zombie.” Damian shot back, putting his phone down.

“Says the fucking zombie,” Jason retorted, “and at least I’m not a fucking lame-ass plant-eating zombie.”

“I don't have a craving for brains because I don’t lack brains, Todd.”

“Whatever, both of you, shut up,” Tim said, uncurling himself to launch himself in between Dick and Damian’s seat to reach for the radio. The radio turned on to Blondie which Jason snorted at, even if the four of them sat in silence, listening to Tide is High.

“And next up, is a requested song, Love Game by Lady Gaga.”

“Let’s have some fun this beat is sick/ I wanna take a ride on your disco sti-”

Tim slammed his hand on the button to change stations even as Jason tackled him, with an impish grin, sending the steering wheel spinning until they all started screaming for their lives.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck,” They chanted in unison.

Jason shoved Tim under him, hard, holding onto Dick and Damian.

Dick groaned as he slammed a foot on the brake and twisted the steering wheel, all of them watching with wide eyes as the trees came closer. The car spun wildly across the road, getting closer to the mud and grass that splattered everywhere once it came in contact with the wheels. When they finally came to a stop, Jason surreptitiously let go of all of them to let out a little whoop, “Jason Todd beats death again.”

There was the little squeaking sound of the windshield wipers as all of them took a moment.

“Y’know...” Tim said tiredly, rubbing his chest. “I’m not sure if you’re sincere or being overly sincere to be sarcastic.”

Jason shrugged, “A little bit of both.” And then he and Tim started grappling for the radio again.

“Get. Off,” Tim grunted, twisting under Jason.

“Hell no. I like that song,” Jason said, yanking at Tim’s hair.

“Ow. And Dick _doesn’t_.” Tim grit out at the sharp pain on his scalp.

“Guess you should’ve kept your lame-ass cowl Even if you looked like a fucking idiot with it. Though the showgirl wings aren’t much of a step up.”

“Low blow,” Tim muttered, elbowing Jason in the face.

Damian twisted around to get his boots in their faces, “Your costume is ridiculous, Drake. Moreover, stop using Grayson to cover your insecurities about being a virgin.”

Tim frowned, pausing to shoot Damian a dark look, muttering lowly, “I'm not, why would it matter if I was, and you're a little shit, Damian. And I don’t know. Dick just doesn’t like it, alright?”

They all glanced at Dick who hadn’t said a word the entire time. He was staring very intently at the steering wheel, waiting for the windshield to be cleared.

Jason snorted, jabbing his chin into Tim’s head and shoving it into the dash.

“Ow, fuck.”

“Why? Is Dick such a sensitive weenie? I used to play it as his entrance song every time before I-” Jason paused for once, his expression slowly changing, before saying, “...died. Oh.”

There was a long silence with only the roar of the engine, and Damian and Tim both turned to stare incredulously at Jason when no obligatory dying joke followed.

“....”

“Don’t.” Dick said, turning the wheel as he backed the car up and out of the mud onto the road again. 

They were silent. And then Jason, still basically sitting on Tim and crushing him, moved up again and turned the radio back and up louder until the car was almost vibrating with the beat. Damian made a face, covering his ears. 

“Seriously?” Tim grit out under Jason’s heavy weight.

Jason shrugged, “I like the song.” He sat back in his seat, yanking Tim into his own while he was at it,  “And it’s not like I’m still dead, so y’know.” He kicked the back of Dick’s seat, hard. “Sing a long, Goldie.”

Tim climbed back out of his seat, “Wait, Dick? Is that why?”

Dick made a quiet noise with the back of his throat and only said, “Seatbelt, Red Robin.” Dick glanced at Damian, countenance serious, “You too, Robin.”

They went up the curve to the disguised entrance through the forest.

Damian rolled his eyes before muttering as he yanked at the seatbelt, “All of us have died before. Todd’s hardly special. Cain died _twice_. Perhaps Todd should step up his game.”                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                  

“Hey,” Jason said, holding up three gloves fingers. “Fuck you. I got beat up with a crowbar, was asphyxiated, and my body was blown to bits by a bomb. It should count _three_ times.”

“Dick?” Tim asked.

“Codenam-,” Dick let out a long, tired sigh. “Yes, I know we all have, Damian. Yes, that's why, Tim.”

“Cain had to kill her own mother. I would venture that that’s worse,” Damian offered.

There was a long silence.

“Ok,” Dick said, “we’re getting off this topic now.”

“Nonono, wait,” Jason said, getting up and slapping Dick on the shoulder, grin sharp and mocking. “Tell everyone about how much you love me first.”

“Seriously?” Tim said, glaring at Jason.

“What?” Jason grinned, baring his teeth, “Dick move?”

There was a loud groan from the other three.

Damian then started to unbuckle his seatbelt and get out of his seat. “Really, Todd-”

“Ok, no,” Dick said, shoving Damian back down with one hand. “I will crash this car if no one shuts up.”

There was a long silence and then the other three started laughing at him.

“Sorry, dickwad,” Jason snorted, “what made you think any of us were ever going to listen to you?”

Dick grit his teeth, glancing away.

“Are you thinking about jumping out the window?” Jason asked, “Cause I actually have. When B was lecturing me. He just played the radio and lectured me in windowless places from then on. Just thought you might wanna know since you love me so much.”

“Jason...” Dick said, irritated.

“Codenames, Dickie boy. I mean you must’ve really missed me to still not listen to that song...do you cry about me in bed at night? I bet you still visit my empty grave.”

Tim smacked Jason on the shoulder, frowning.

“...”

“I mean you act so cold all the time, but really you’re just an ol’ softie. I bet you secretly pine for-”

“SHUT UP!” Dick yelled, and then quieter, breathing heavy, “It’s not a _joke_ , and it _never_ was, Jason. Don’t make it one.”

They all went completely silent, Jason taking his feet off Dick’s chair as the silence sunk into the car.

“Not sorry,” Jason said. “My death. My killer jokes.”

Dick hit his head against the steering wheel.

 

Dick unlocked the door to his apartment and glanced down at the yellow folder on the ground along with his other mail. He picked everything up, holding onto the manila envelope to inspect it’s outside. There was no label, just a drawing of a penis on it.

Dick sighed, rubbing his face with his other hand.

Then he put it down on the table to go take a shower.

He ended up only bothering to open the manila folder right before he was about to go to sleep, a cassette sliding out into his hand. He narrowed his eyes at it. Only Jason would make Dick dig through his apartment just to hear something probably ridiculous. Dick sighed, reluctantly standing up to go search for a cassette player.

 

Dick put the mixtape into the player and pressed the play button.

It was like he’d thought. Love game by Lady Gaga, and then Dick nearly choked when instead of hearing stick after disco, he just heard the music cut off and Jason’s voice saying “Dick. Dick. Dick. Dick,” in a flat voice, slowly letting it seem like it was fading out. And then once there was a second of silence, the music kept on playing.

Dick put a hand over his mouth, rubbing his jaw, laughing.

It was like that every single time, dick replacing stick, and Dick’s stomach was cramping up in pain by the time the song was done.

Then at the end, it was Jason’s voice again, with ceremonial bagpipes playing the background, saying, “In honor of your Discowing costume. May it rest in peace. Forever. We don’t need to see so much fucking cleavage, Dick.”

When Dick took the cassette out after playing it several times, he looked at the back to see something the label filled out.

It said:

From the better Robin.

To Discowing.

 

“Dick. Dick. Disco boy.”

“Code names, Robin,” Dick replies, swinging in to land beside Jason.

“Yeah, okay, okay, but here. Listen to this. This could be your entrance song,” Jason took his phone out of his belt when they were spotted, shouting coming from the henchmen

“Robin,” Dick hissed, but Jason only waggled his eyebrows and pressed down anyway, the singer starting up.

“Let’s have some fun this beat is sick. I wanna take a ride on your disco stick.”

Jason put the phone down on the rooftop and then shoved at a frowning Dick to get off the rooftop. They had criminals to fight. Dick went with some protest, only finally going when Jason rolled his eyes, grabbed Dick’s hand and jumped off himself.

Both of them were grinning as they leapt down, Jason yelling.

“And DRUUUMROOOOOLLLL, idiots!

Here comes the kickass Robin and Discowing to kick.

Your.

Asses!”

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry if this is weird, but I can never tell if someone wants a reply to their comment or not. So if you do comment, and want a response, put an @ at the beginning!


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